Exposed Heart
by IanVampLover
Summary: Maybe it was just him, but he thought Steve's eyes were the same shade as his arc reactor and maybe that's why Steve could always see right through it. Maybe, just maybe, that's why Steve could decipher his emotions so quickly. He wished he had invented a plate to cover the light and then he wouldn't have to feel so vulnerable and exposed.
1. Exposed Hearts

**A DAY TO REMEMBER**

* * *

Tony's cheek was bruised and swollen, but that didn't stop him from landing a solid uppercut to Rogers' chin. Surprisingly enough, Steve stumbled back, not just from Tony's punch, but from the shock. He hadn't expected Stark to recover so quickly, much less retaliate.

The Captain grunted as he regained his balance, eyes clenched shut before snapping his head forwards to drill his glare into Tony's disoriented eyes. Tony didn't want to admit it, but the Captain had done a number on him, it was a miracle he was still conscious. His left eye was already suffering loss of vision from the swelling of his cheek, his breath ragged and coming out in rapid successions as the adrenaline rushed through his veins, keeping his knees from giving out.

He didn't know what to do next, he didn't think he could take another step without fainting on the spot, humiliating himself in the process. A low groan rumbled past his slightly parted lips as a steady thump inside his head expanded and contracted his head, at least that's how it felt like. He lifted his hand to soothe his throbbing headache only to come in contact with a warm and dense liquid. Retracting his fingertips from his temple and towards his line of vision-which was poor due to only his right eye functioning-Tony saw red, literally. Blood trickled down his right side of his face, causing a tingling sensation on the surface of his skin, giving him the strange urge to scratch it off.

All whilst Tony examined himself and stood there regaining his wits, Steve watched his ministrations with a tight lipped and stoic expression.

For him, the adrenaline burst died down quickly once he noticed the damage he had caused Stark. He noticed the slight vibration of the billionaire's body as it hummed with exhaustion, fighting to stay awake. But most of all, he noticed the disoriented and glossy brown eyes disappearing behind fluttering lashes as he groaned out from what appeared to be the beginnings of a concussion.

It was then that he realized how pathetic and petty he had acted. He had intentionally attack one of his comrades with a full-strength punch. If he broke Tony's cheekbone it would be no surprise and judging from the rapid swelling and bruising, he had. All because Steve cared for Tony.

* * *

_15 minutes earlier..._

It was Memorial's Day and, as predicted, Tony had found it as the perfect excuse to throw a party...apparently to honor the soldiers who had served the country. But with his reputation of a playboy to uphold, Stark couldn't pass up the opportunity to invite gorgeous women to drink and dance with.

Steve didn't know what bothered him more: the fact that Stark never took anything seriously, not even such an important day, or that he had managed to somehow make this day about himself. Iron Man posters hung next to the American posters for the Navy, Army, Marines, National Coast Guards, etc. Never one to pass an opportunity to remind everyone of his grandiose or heroic persona, Stark even dedicated a slideshow to his accomplishments. Steve had walked out as soon as the slideshow appeared with the title, "Iron Man: The War Hero." _War?_ What war? The one against the Aliens? That was a single battle, not war!

He had heard the laughter of the public as Stark said something indecipherable, Steve too far away to hear even with his super hearing abilities. This only managed to grate on his nerves even more, the thick vein on his temple twitching in anger. Picking up his pace, Steve finally came to a stop once he was on the roof, starring up at the navy heavens. Feeling a sting on his palms, he relaxed his grip, his nails no longer digging into his flesh.

Letting out a sigh, Steve slumped his shoulders down. He was tired of acting strong, like nothing affected him. As if 70 years of change were easy to cope with. But, he needed to be the leader, needed to put aside his inner turmoil to assemble the Avengers into a proper team. As stressful as his superhero job was, he would never trade it for anything. He signed up for this, he wants to protect humanity. Now so more than ever. The 21st century is a lot more eccentric and accepting than before, it's hard not to love it, despite the ugly industrial buildings (like Starks Tower).

_Stark. _

Just thinking of him makes him boil with anger. He acted so self-centered, inconsiderate, rude. He was just...just a paradox. How could someone who loves himself so much risk his life to save the world. It's not_ just _risking his life, it's almost like Stark is eager to be the first to volunteer to sacrifice himself for the sake of the earth. He didn't even hesitate when he went through the portal with the nuke, fully knowing that he wouldn't come back.

Then again he had been the one to accuse Tony of being worthless and disposable. Maybe Tony actually believed him and thought that his life was worthless and only served for one purpose: to be the sacrificial lamb.

When Iron Man did come back through the portal at the last possible second, his dead weight twisting violently as it plummeted towards Earth, all he could do was stare helplessly-his heart's crumbling perfectly synchronized with his descent, quickly yet agonizingly slow in making its way down.

Metal colliding with the asphalt never sounded more sickening that it did when Hulk unceremoniously dropped Iron Man on the ground. Thor yanked the metal mask off and threw it god knows where, but that didn't matter because the black hole situated in Tony's chest, his peaceful expression, and the unnatural stillness of his body told Steve that death had finally claimed Tony's life. Steve tried to do something to restore that bright sapphire glow into the reactor, but he only fumbled cluelessly-not knowing how to fix it.

Hunching back, Steve fought back tears as he fixed his gaze away from Tony's still form. The grief he felt was quickly being overridden by fury, his breath becoming agitated as he gnawed on the inside of his lip-attempting to remain calm. Suddenly, an angry roar erupted from the green beast. Almost a desperate cry as if telling Tony to _"Quit fucking around and get up!" _well at least that's how _he _felt like yelling. When he heard the sharp intake of air, Steve couldn't believe it, Tony had miraculously rebooted with the frightening screech of the giant. Subconsciously, he lent in closer, but he stopped himself before ravaging the playboy's mouth. He wanted to do nothing, but kiss him out of pure happiness and relief. An innocent gesture, surely a friendly one.

"What the hell? What just happened?" Tony asked, still breathless from the lack of oxygen in his system during those agonizing seconds.

"Please tell me nobody kissed me," Tony deadpanned with his usual sarcastic tone, deliberately glancing away from anyone, staring at nothing. But of course, not before taking a quick peek at Steve and quickly averting his eyes as Steve returned the gaze. Steve could look away and lean back, trying to withhold his guilt and rising blush.

"We won." Steve uttered, trying to qualm the sudden butterflies in his stomach. Tony was alive. It was clearly a victory like no other. Agent Coulson was already gone, they didn't need another casualty, specially not Tony: the soft-hearted, self-less billionaire, who plays well with others and very much so, given the way he aided each of them during the battle. Said man, stopped staring at Steve's parted pink lips in anticipation and finally closed his eyes in gratitude, reclining his head back as far as the suit would allow him to.

"Hooray! Hey! Hooray! Good job guys!" Tony tried to enthusiastically cheer, but obviously he was exhausted and so his tone lacked the energy to properly celebrate their triumph. Tony went on rambling like his usual cheery self, as if he hadn't died a few moments ago. And for that he was grateful, Tony lightened up the mood quickly with his charming antics, nevertheless; the need to avenge the philanthropist's death (even though he resuscitated) was still burning in his chest like molten lava waiting to erupt.

"Have you ever tried Shawarma?" Tony randomly commented, Steve couldn't help it then, a full blown grin split his face as he ducked his head letting out an amused noise, quickly shifting his adoring gaze back up at Tony's excited face. He really couldn't believe the sheer ridiculousness that was Tony Stark, returned from the dead and already making a cheeky remark. "There's a Shawarma joint a few blocks from here. I don't know what it is, but I want to try it."

"We're not done, yet." Thor pipes in grimly, almost pouting. They still needed to capture Loki and maybe rough him up a little before turning him over to Thor. That maniac needed to pay for the destruction he caused, the lives he took...for the life he almost took.

"...and then shawarma after." Tony's husky voice cuts through Steve's thoughts. Snapping his eyes towards Tony, he noticed how nonchalant he appeared there sprawled immobile on the torn concrete road.

That's what pissed him off! Stark tried so hard to put up an act, like he is so strong and nothing can break him, but Steve knew he was the most vulnerable of them all. Of course, Tony would never admit it, much less discuss the demons that haunted him; however, one single look at his eyes told everything. Tony looked shocked, scared, and a little frantic as he cheerfully rambled on about going to that new place, shawam-sawhar...some weird place. Tony's nervous chatter an attempt to hide the growing panic he felt bubbling in his chest as he layed on his back, yet doing his best to in trying to focus his stare, momentarily failing as he spaced out as he looked up towards the sky, before finally settling his eyes on Thor insisting about the shawarma.

The overwhelming fear and trauma manifested itself in Tony's personal life as one night stands and endless sleepless nights drinking or working. That's the only way Tony learned how to cope, nobody had taught him otherwise. It explained his self-destructive alcoholic/workaholic behavior. Tony was never in touch with reality, for he was either always drunk or sober enough to work on his next invention. Always detached from everyone around him, preferring to submerge himself in his lab where he could freely distract himself or solve his problems, whether they be social or scientific ones. It was his form of therapy and that was okay, except sometimes Tony wouldn't come out of there for days.

A gruff snort escaped his mouth in what was supposed to be a humorous chuckle. Here he was pretending he knew Tony so well, after only working together on a single mission (and living with him for three months). He presumptuously thought that he was now an expert on all things Tony, when he had previously judged the genius based on articles the first time he met him. And now he thought he could help him deal with his stress? How could he fix Tony when he, himself, was so messed up to begin with? Sighing, Captain America nostalgically recalled his moments of courage and heroism in the 1940s, where everything was familiar and he felt in control. Those were simpler times. There was nothing simple about the 21st century, specifically the genius playboy who seemed to be a century ahead of everyone else when it came to technology. A futurist. They were exact opposites, polar opposites, yet they could coexist to some point. He only wondered how long it would last before they clashed again.

Tony rounded the corner and found the Captain staring solemnly at the sky, his form swaying slightly with the wind, or maybe it was actually himself who was slightly stumbling...he couldn't tell. He frowned and approached him. He should've left the gloomy soldier alone to drown in his own pity, but nooooo...he actually felt bad for the guy. It was Memorial's Day for pete's sake. Sighing, Stark took determined steps toward his teammate.

"Cap! What are you doing here sulking? You're missing the best part!" Tony cheerfully drawled as he placed a hand on the brooding man, who jolted at the contact.

Next thing Tony remembered was opening his eyes and staring at the stars above him, although they seemed to have doubled in quantity. Blinking his dizziness away, Tony used his elbows to sit up...how he fallen on the floor, was a mystery. Well, that is until he turned confused eyes towards Rogers and tried to voice his wonder. Trying to speak was a no-no, pain seared his jaw and left cheek. The disheveled hair of American Boy, coupled with his flaring nostrils was a dead give away to an angry soldier. What he had done to deserve such a violent reaction from the Captain was unknownst to Tony, but nonetheless, fury began to stir in his gut.

"What the hell?" A seething hiss passed between gritted teeth.

Ignoring the ache of his cheek and the sudden nausea he felt for jumping on his feet too quickly, Tony decided that payback was in order. He wasn't some punching bag that everyone could use to take out their suppressed anger nor a doll to be treated as nothing more than an object. He had enough of indifference and negligence in his childhood, he didn't need this as a grown man too.

But he held back, maybe Rogers had lashed out in instinct, but that was wishful thinking. Tony knew how much the Captain disliked him and the lack of response from the soldier only confirmed that the assault was intentional. They both glared at each other, but Tony could see something else in Steve's eyes, was that _pity_?

A snarl. A punch. And Tony felt some gratification from watching the Captain's head whip back, yet it didn't give him the satisfaction he was looking for, it only made his mood worsen. Well, at least his boxing hobby paid off, he could put up a decent fight-even if he was drunk-against the super soldier.

* * *

_End Flashback:_

A green-yellowish tint made up the core, reddish tint seeping outwards and ultimately to morph with the dark ugly violet welt marking Tony's skin. Steve couldn't stop the guilt eating away at his heart, no matter how hard he tried to justify his actions. Maybe Tony did deserve it, did have it coming, but Steve wasn't a malicious person by nature. It's just that he felt so angry at Tony and his lack of self-preservation, he hadn't even intended on punching him...but that obnoxiously fake peppy tone had undone him. Couldn't he have some self-worth? God damn him! It made Steve so angry and sad at the same time. Maybe if he hadn't been so angry, he would've hugged Tony instead.

Tony swayed unsteadily on his feet, trying to fix his gaze onto the sheepish man standing in front of him. All square shoulders and threatening aura replaced with a defeated form. That's all it took for Tony to deflate. Aside from being tired, he didn't want to dwell in the emotional rollercoaster that was Steve Rogers. Besides he had at least restored some of his dignity by retaliating.

"Geez, if you didn't want to go, you could've just said no," Tony muttered and tried to smirk, but he winced in the process. Right, swollen cheek. Got it.

"Stark I-" Steve began, but was cut off when Tony raised his hand, motioning for him to be silent.

"No, no. I get it! I practically heard Moonlight Sonata playing out here," Tony mocked. "I won't intrude during your..._personal_ time again," so much sarcasm dripping from the statement with just the tiniest of hurt lacing Tony's tone-telling Steve that he had screwed up...again. "Now if you excuse me, I need to get back to my guests to break the bad news," Tony muttered as he slowly shook his head in mock disappointment. He began to walk towards the exit, brushing past Steve, flinching when Steve raised his hand-intending to grip the crook of Tony's elbow to stop him-but hesitating once he took notice of Stark's reaction.

Steve tightened his jaw, feeling slightly angry that Stark could mistrust and fear him so much. Then again, they were never on good terms and what he had just done moments ago worsened their relationship...or whatever they had. It certainly wasn't friendship.

Sensing that Steve wasn't going to probe any further, untensing his shoulders, Stark continued his stroll towards the door, wanting nothing more than to lay down to nurse his headache. Tomorrow was going to be hell. Not only will the hangover be bad, but coupled with the bruise and the concussion...lets just say he will need to be in lock down, curtains drawn, no visitors, no sounds. Just an ice pack, aspirins, and his thoughts...and Jarvis.

Steve scowled, displeased at Stark's nonchalant behavior, "So you're just going back looking like_ that_."

Tony froze, of course he wasn't going back to the party. He had come back to surprise Steve with the special gift he designed himself for this day, this day solely dedicated to Steve Rogers (but of course everyone else had to think otherwise, he had a reputation to uphold as the big bad selfish billionare). Not wanting to engage in verbal combat where he could reveal his incredibly mushy and cheesy, albeit true intentions, Tony decided to ignore him and resume his retreat.

He hadn't even taken a step when he felt the world spin around him, light and darkness crashing into each other in a series of bright explosions followed by periods of ebony obscurity. Tony readjusted his eyes and noticed that Rogers had him cradled against his chest, his back securely reclined against the firm thorax of the Captain. How had that happened? Oh well, it was pretty damn comfortable and the world wasn't a rapid vortex of monochromatic colors anymore.

Against his better judgement, Tony relaxed and subtly snuggled closer to Steve. It felt too comfy for his exhausted body and mind. He guessed the adrenaline probably had finally worn off, thus his dizzy spell. Though, the incredible amount of alcohol he consumed could have also caused the same effect.

"Stark?" Steve murmured against the shell of Tony's ear. But the only response he got was a hum reverberating in Tony's chest-the slight vibration of the noise tingling over the Captain's skin due to their flushed position. The feeling was calming and a little too intimate for Steve.

Just when he was going to shove Stark away from him, Tony's body suddenly went slack. Steve reacted quickly by tightening his arms around Tony's waist, which was pretty damn narrow...in fact Tony was pretty small. Well, compared to him everyone must be tiny, except Thor...and Hulk, but they didn't count, they weren't 100% human. Despite Tony being 5'9", his frame was always lean albeit toned with remarkably firm buttocks-if the fleshy yet hard globes pressing into his pelvis was of any indication. Tony's lolling head managed to snap Steve out of his very strange and inappropriate thoughts only to realize that the male in his arms was still unconscious.

"Stark? Stark?" Panic slightly laced his voice as he tried to wake him up. Steve nudged the limp body in front of him, garnering no reaction except for a barely audible whimper muffled by Tony's closed lips. He would've missed it if he didn't have super-hearing abilities.

Steve, seeing that Stark was not going to wake up, resigned with a soft exhale. Feeling the guilt in his chest grow ten times more to the point where his throat knotted up from the intense feeling, Steve decided he could at least make up for his erratic behavior by taking care of Tony. Surely carrying a drunk, beaten up, and unconscious man was no spectacle, but apparently not everyone held the same sentiment.

"Uh, he fell down...you know, he was too drunk," Steve nervously explained to the various shocked, curious, suspicious, and amused eyes staring back at him as he passed through the living room to get to Tony's room. He shuffled quickly out of there when nobody seemed to respond. Steve let out a breath of relief, happy to be away from the prying eyes of the guests.

Setting Tony down onto his bed was an easy enough task, but getting an unresponsive body to cooperate with him in order to discard the uncomfortable formal suit, was not. Albeit a little harder, stripping Stark of his white button up shirt, slim form-hugging blazer, and black slacks only took one or two janks before the pesky garments were torn off Stark. He had no time to delicately undress him nor the patience, so the sound of thread seperating was a satisfying sound to Steve's ears. Leaving Tony in just a pair of navy blue boxers, sprawled out on the silky white sheets was strangely hypnotic. The moon's milky luster licked across the smooth expanse of Tony's skin, yet unable to match the luminance of the sapphire glow at the center of his chest set abalze in all its glorious splendor, illuminating Tony's angelic face...though, marred by the ugly welt on his left cheek.

Guilt racked Steve's body, severing the trance he was in. Noticing that he was now sitting on the bed, next to Tony, Steve scrambled off. He retreated to the couch on the far right, where he sat down, determined to watch over Tony. He didn't know when or how, but sleep succumbed him, the last image of dark raven locks mushed against a pillow, olive skin an alabaster hue under the lustrous moonlight, and creamy thighs partially covered by the tangled ocean of silk. It helped lull him to a peaceful sleep, a smile grazing his lips.

* * *

**A/N:** I know this chapter is short, but I didn't want to publish a 12,000 word chapter. People may lose interest and its hard to track where you are reading. Don't worry, this story will eventually lead to slash. The first chapters are heavily Tony-centric and his character analysis. I like to pace things and dissect the characters. This story is a little more simplistic in vocabulary, not wanting to overwhelm the readers.


	2. Dead Hearts

**Dead Hearts**

_**Tell me everything that happened, Tell me everything you saw.**_

_**I can say it, but you won't believe. You say you do, but you don't deceive me.**_

**-Dead Hearts by Stars**

* * *

Grumbling, Tony shifts in his bed trying to escape the annoying glare of the sun's rays breaking through the window. Still, the clarity is now obvious as he becomes more aware of his surroundings, sleep slipping away from him. With a frustrated huff, Tony turns over to lay on his back to stare at the ceiling, simply basking in the silence of his room-grateful since his headache would have been ten times worse if it had not been so serene. However, as usual, his peace is cut short once his mind starts to race through the blurry memories of last night.

How did he exactly end up in his bed? Sure, he's woken up before with a naked girl whose name he couldn't remember, much less her face. But he could at least remember small flashes of the blissful union, yet this time...nothing._ zip_. nada. Though, those one night stands had long ceased after his attempt of a stable-ish relationship with Pepper. Needless to say, he couldn't maintain it. Relationships weren't easy to deal with, much less fix. What's the point in being a genius if you can't fix the problem that matters the most? Trying to ignore the familiar emptiness as he thought of Pepper and their failed romance, Tony decided to focus on the still beautiful friendship they had. So, if he hadn't slept with someone in his drunken state, then why was he half naked?

Well, that was odd. Furrowing his eyebrows in confusion, he lets it slip his mind. Eh, he can always ask Jarvis what happened. He moves onto his next soul-searching topic and he comes across the still-ever present tension with Steve. Oh right! Steve. He had planned this party for him, even a slideshow disguised as dedicated to Iron Man, only for it to be a video montage of Captain America. Its what Tony did, expect the unexpected. It was a video footage of Steve as Captain America in the 1940s and the loving country who mourned his loss. The Captain needed to see that people loved him and even if it hurt him to be reminded of the people he left behind, it would be a good time for the soldier to realize that he was loved and never truly alone when he was in the ice. He had the hearts and spirits of thousands of people with him. Besides, it would've been hell to find such old footage like that, but luckily his dad seemed to keep a lot of memorabilia from Captain America, still...Steve should appreciate his effort in finding an antique novelty.

What drove him to do such a kind thing for Rogers was beyond him. Though if he was truly honest with himself, he still held the admiration and adoration for his childhood hero, even if the superhero in question disapproved of his living style. At least Steve had come to respect him more after his stunt with the nuclear bomb. All he seeked was for Steve to...be proud of him? Accept him? No. He didn't want paternal love, of course not. He wanted a friend he could talk to, hang out with and playfully tease. Sure, he had Banner, but he wanted Steve too...yes, he was a greedy spoiled rich brat!

Ugh, enough of Steve. For some reason Steve reminds him of the old man that died to save his life in Afghanistan. Without warning, Tony is thrown back into the unpleasant memory of how he came to be Iron Man. He doesn't remember much, except escaping and killing a lot of enemies. Although he has the footage of his capture, torture, and the implant of the battery to his heart, he doesn't remember any of it, except for the bright lights and weird voices surrounding him as he's tied to a chair, a camera glaring at his face. So, out of morbid curiosity, Tony could never stop watching the video, always replaying the part where he trashes and screams in terror from the excruciating pain. It's a morning ritual, like a sick fascination with the horror he had to endure and should've killed him. The video reminds him that he is not invincible, a reality check. For Tony, it's part of his life. Reliving the moment that changed his life forever, where one human being gave his life for him, so he could achieve a higher purpose in life: to protect and serve the innocent.

He had to thank S.H.I.E.L.D for managing to recuperate the damaged camera film footage. They had to find it after he had flat out refused to speak of the events that took place in the cave. Apparently, Fury had suspected him of becoming allied with the terrorists. As if! He would've rather died than ever be forced into an alliance with those bastards! And he almost did die if it hadn't been for Yinsen.

"Jarvis, play video 67B please," Tony orders softly, mentally preparing himself for the images that don't cease to amaze him. He believes he has become somewhat desensitized to them from the countless of times he has watched the scene, but the olfactory memories always manifest themselves vividly. Although, Tony can't remember the visual, he can recall the smells: the metallic and bitter whiff of blood spilling from his chest, the salt in his tongue from which he thinks are his tears dripping into his yelling mouth, the moist stuffy stench of dirt inside the cave, and the strange odor of battery fluid excretion from the apparatus connected to his heart.

The video begins to flash before his eyes, momentarily blinding him just like the lamp lights had when the terrorists had unbagged his face. Then, the scene switches to a grungy obscure area where Tony lays unconscious with many men surrounding him, preparing the tools to open his chest with. The whirr of the bone cutter tool can be heard before it meets flesh and then the blood curdling scream erupts from Tony's mouth, his head thrashing violently from the agony-originating from the hole being dug in his chest cavity-radiating to the rest of his limbs. He trashes his head violently while callous hands dig into his shoulders to try and keep his struggle to a minimum, until someone finally decides to gag him with a hand towel. Suddenly, the screams stop and he just lays there unmoving, his breaths ragged as he takes breaths in sharply every time, the sound between a sob and gasp.

Then, he remembers being unable to breathe, a sharp pain in his nostrils as he hit the cool surface of water. In the video he can see himself come out spluttering and gasping, trying to regain some oxygen into his lungs before he is plunged violently into the tub of water again when he refuses to comply and build the Jericho. All he sees is darkness, but he can feel the static of water bubbles swirling around his face, his throat constricting as water surged into his lungs while he screamed terrified underwater when (what he assumed must have been) the moisture seeping into the battery in his chest, sending a scorching sensation all throughout his body-like hot iron ants crawling all over him. On the brink of losing consciousness, he hears a distant hoarse voice mutter an 'okay' before collapsing to the ground, nobody bothering to catch him. He knows now, that it had been his voice.

"Fast forward to minute 45," Tony mumbles. The scene switches to the time where Yinsen dies, Tony standing over him, trying to get him to escape with him. That's the part he does remember and can never forget. Yinsen, his savior. If it wasn't for him, he wouldn't be alive. He's the first one to save him by implanting the battery to his heart and yet again by stalling the soldiers who would've no doubt stopped his attempt to escape. Yinsen was the catalyst in the creation of Iron Man, of the better man he is today.

The man Tony Stark used to be was someone blissfully ignorant to any kind of suffering, but during his accident, he was forced to confront and acknowledge the destruction and harm he had directly caused. However, it was Yinsen who had motivated him via an ultimatum: either to give up and die as a captive man who left nothing behind, but a history of ignorance and destruction, or to live to repair his mistakes and to fight against injustice. Of course, Tony became determined to live with his irreparable heart condition and escape social isolation in order to stop his company from making new munition to sell under the table. However, soon thereafter he realized that it simply wasn't enough. His weapons still existed out there in the world and they were harming innocent people and during that time, not just random people, but people from his savior's village. Yinsen's village.

He still remembers sitting in front of the Tv watching CNN, the screams of innocents terrorized by his creations echoing in his ears, the memory of Yinsen and what he meant to him twisting his face in a mixture of agony, guilt, and horror. He couldn't fail him again. That was his breaking point, he needed to release all his pent up emotions. Unknownst to him, he had over calibrated his flight repulsors, which incidentally, led to the discovery of a new weapon for his iron suit, and its a grin worthy discovery, except he could barely manage a grimace then. With the glass shattered walls of his lab littering his floor, Tony crossed the physical threshold that had previously separated him and his MARK suit invention from the world. He was off to save Yinsen's village, to begin his journey as a hero.

Oh, but he couldn't even get that right. Though he avenged Yinsen and Phil, he should've had never had to avenge them. They should've been alive. Captain America was right, he wasn't a hero, he was just an egoistic selfish bastard who fought for himself, to try to get rid of his own guilt.

By the time he snaps out of his thoughts, the video has already progressed to the part where Tony is flying or more like propelled away. "Thank you Jarvis," Tony says, fully knowing that the computer will interpret it as a dismissal. The video fades, Tony's soft inhales and exhales caressing the walls of the room.

Closing his eyes tiredly, letting the weariness manifest itself into his face, Tony feels his face sag like the skin of an 80 year old man. What was wrong with him? Unexpectedly he feels tears prickle the corners of his eyes, wanting to trail down and mark his cheeks. Realizing the tightness in his chest as fear, Tony tries to overcome his mental breakdown, breathing in deeply and trying to think of things he cared about, people he cared about. Pepper, she always calmed him down, all he had to do was picture her strawberry locks framing the delicate narrow face with her dazzling smile and warm eyes shining with affection. Crisis averted.

"Sir? Do you need me to contact again?" Jarvis cuts in, obviously sensing his master's distress. Last time, Tony hadn't been able to control his panic attack because the fear of failing the people he cared about had amplified after his brush with death during the Loki incident. Tony had called out for Pepper, but she had been running errands, trying to please the media and their questions. So, the next closest friend was Banner. They are science buddies after all and well, he_ is _a doctor.

"No, no...thank you Jarvis," Tony dismissed the request with a wave of his hand, using the other to wipe away the slight sheen of sweat that had pooled at the hollow where his collarbones and neck muscles met. Tony 'tsk' in irritation. When will this ridiculous overreaction stop.

Sure, every day got easier to not succumb to the pull of the flashback, but the physical signs of panic and terror still were unable to disappear. Being weak was not an option, not when another human life was taken just so he could go on living. He didn't deserve that, but he tried so hard to be worthy. Becoming Iron Man was the only right path to take. He had to make up for the years of suffering he had instilled upon innocent people. The countless deaths of American soldiers at the hands of his own weapons would've never happened if he had been responsible enough to become aware of the dirty dealings of Stane. It was all his fault. Tony snapped his eyes open and sat up abruptly, instantly regretting it as the room spun around in synch with his stomach.

"Jarvis, prepare two aspirins and a glass of water please," Tony groaned out with his gruff voice, still grimacing from the painful throb in his head. "Sir?"

"Jarvis I asked for TWO aspirins, you know the ones that help with a hangov-" Tony was cut off from his snappy reply when he hears the computer uncharacteristically interrupt his dialogue.

"Sir, if I may, I was perplexed by your command since the pills seem to be placed on the counter to your left," the AI finished. Tony shifted his gaze to the location specified to find that, indeed, two white pills rested on top of a napkin with a tall glass of water next to them. This arrangement was not how Jarvis or Pepper would prepare them, usually they would still be in their package and a water bottle would sit alongside them.

"Who brought these?" Tony implored.

"I did," a voice spoke from the far corner of the room, startling Tony. He whipped his head to his right and surely, there was Rogers groggily straightening up from his slouched position on the couch.

Unknownst to Tony, Steve had been awake since the moment Tony began to stir from his slumber...or unconsciousness. He saw the heartbreaking emotions swim across Tony's face before he bolted up in slight panic, wanting to get rid of the feeling. He saw the watery eyes blink away the sudden wave of nausea and saw the exhausted defeated form try to regain it's usual confidence. To say Steve was horrified at the sight was an understatement.

Steve had seen how Tony watched the video with wide terrified eyes, clutching the blanket below him, as his lower lip trembled slightly. Tony didn't look like he was watching at all, in fact he appeared to be reliving it, but at the same time fighting against the memories. It's then that the Captain realized what Tony was doing. He was trying to detach his emotions from the scenes, but failing terribly. Scowling, Steve thought that for a genius, Tony wasn't very bright. Watching your own torture was not a good way to overcome the trauma, in fact it seemed to only make it worse-only serving to keep the memories fresh in Tony's mind.

Steve wanted to rush and embrace Tony fiercely, but he knew interrupting him would probably only startle Tony and in the current vulnerable state he was in, Steve didn't know how Tony would react; so, with an incredible amount of restraint, he remained glued to the couch.

How could such a damaged man be so strong, or act every day like he was okay, never showing his inner demons, not burdening anyone-only acting as the fool who would serve as the punching bag for everyone. The horrifying part was that Steve had been one of the people to lash out at the easy target.

He would never view Tony the same way again, not after the images now ingrained in his brain, not to the mention the sounds. Oh god, the screams! The cruel torture Tony had to endure had his guts churning in revulsion and uncontrollable rage. Specially when, Tony's terrifying yells had gradually turned into more of a gurgle as he choked on his own blood, which effectively succeeded in raising the hairs on his arms as quickly as a magnet attracted to iron, along with the tiny bumps surrounding the hair follicle, I think they called it duckbumps or something with a bird in it.

The only footage he had seen before was nothing like this. It was just about his arrogant gloating after preventing another catastrophe or his ego exploding on the stage as he showed off his Iron Man suit at the Stark Expo. Obviously there was more to Tony Stark than he previously thought. Someone truly selfish would've never become Iron Man, much less protect the world, not after the horrid treatment in Afghanistan.

A selfish person would've saved his own life without caring who he stepped over to achieve it and then continued on with their meaningless existence. But not Tony, he fought back against his captors, yet his primary motivation was not revenge, but his and Yinsen's escape and the destruction of the weapons stockpile. He didn't go after his captors in a vengeful way despite his anger over Yensin's death. Some of them died, yes, but that's a given when defending yourself against armed hostiles. Not once did he drag out someone's death, nor did he show any glee whilst killing. In fact, he killed efficiently and quickly.

Of course Steve had come to realize how selfless Tony was during their cooperation in the mission against Loki, but knowing his past just solidified that Stark was truly kind at heart, and had been a long time before he became an Avenger. Now he understood why Tony had become so upset over Phil's death. Stark became Iron Man so good men like Yinsen and Phil didn't have to sacrifice themselves to protect the Earth. Tony had felt like he had failed yet again...but then again, its all speculation. He could be way off and Stark just enjoys the power and glory that comes from being a superhero, but that wouldn't explain his willingness to go on suicidal missions.

"_There's only the next mission, that's it," _Steve recalls the words Pepper had mockingly thrown back at Tony when they had one of their fights about how careless he was with his life. Pepper had accused him of not caring about anyone or anything, just_ 'the next mission'_. Tony was a warrior, focused primarily in the protection of innocents before anything else, before his own life or interests. Apparently Pepper found that notion incredibly stupid, for it meant that she could lose Tony any second of the day. However, Steve had found Tony's ethics to be quite noble and selfless, not to mention courageous. It's a hero's job.

Tony watches how the muscular body on his couch just stares momentarily into open space, the sorrow briefly sailing across the blue waters that were Roger's eyes, but dismisses it as just another brooding fit from Steve. Instead, he wonders why in the hell the soldier was in his room in the first place and how long he had been there for? Hopefully, he's barely waking up, but his eyes don't look bleary and his posture is too rigid, then again, Captain America always looks perfect no matter the circumstances. He always has that damn great hair and-wait, what was he going with this? Oh yeah, why was the supersoldier nestled in his couch like he belonged there?

Had he invited the soldier in last night? Tony tries really hard to recall his interaction with Steve, but as much as he racks his brain, no new information spews out. All he remembers is going out to look for Rogers, stars..._a lot _of stars and then darkness, nothing more.

Furrowing his brows in confusion, Tony makes a mental note to stop drinking so much if he's going to be blacking out so often. Who is he kidding, alcohol is the only way for him to fall asleep, well more like lose consciousness because-lets face it-Tony Stark never sleeps. He faints, collapses, blacks out, but never sleeps. He never feels rested when he wakes up, probably because his slumber only lasts 3 hours at its most. But, today seemed to be a new record with 3 hours and 30 minutes of sleep. He could attempt to go back to sleep, but Tony knew that every other 15 or so minutes he would wake up, frenzied and disoriented. Besides, it was already 5:30 a.m., a perfect time to begin the day.

"Uuhh...what are you doing in my room?" Tony couldn't help asking him, even if he came off as rude, but he was seriously creeped out that Steve was here in his room and smiling, no less. Was he still asleep and this was a dream?

Steve noticed the confusion turning Tony's face into one of a lost little boy who didn't know which way was north. It was kind of adorable seeing the Great Tony Stark, unsure of himself. The big brown puppy eyes must be what made him look so young and precious.

"Well, you passed out on me and I felt that it was my duty to look after you given lasts nights circumstances," Steve vaguely explained. Tony gave him a blank look, trying to wordlessly communicate his temporary memory loss.

Then, Tony is struck with recognition. He remembers creating a gift for Steve, but for the life of him he can't even remember if the soldier saw it, much less his reaction to it. Yet, he didn't feel compelled to ask him even as he stood in front of him with a sheepish smile. Weird.

"Right, you were pretty drunk so you probably don't remember," Steve mutters more to himself than Tony. "Okay, so you came to the roof last night to bring me back to the party and-" Steve continued before Tony piped in as he seemed to realize what had happened. So, Steve had seen the movie tribute and he had_ liked _it! Butterflies stirred in his stomach, moving up to his chest, causing him to slightly blush at the sensation.

"Oh! That was nothing, it was just a small token of appreciation for your service to the US and its people, I mean it was nothing so big as for you to feel obligated to repay me. I mean, it was a gift. No repayment required," Tony cut off his embarrassing rambling. Ugh, this headache prevented him from being his suave and charming self, instead he sounded like a stuttering little school girl who just found out that the boy she likes also likes her. Great now he was acting like a love struck twit. Blame it on the alcohol and its after effects. Speaking of being inhibited, why the fuck did his cheek hurt, he can't even talk without it aching.

Steve watched Tony with upturned eyebrows, gently meeting in the center in wonder. A gift? What was Tony talking about? Tony had gotten him a gift...?_ Damn_! That's why he wanted him to rejoin him at the party, probably to give it to him and, instead, he had beat up the surprisingly thoughtful and kind man. No amount of apology will be able to make Tony forgive him for the sudden bout of violence. He could always lie and in turn save their growing bond. Steve focused his eyes back on Tony, ready to tell him the biggest lie (so much for Mr. Perfect) when he saw Tony's hand ready to probe his inflated cheek-although the array of colors decorating the skin the day before were now just a pale purple barely visible, he was sure he hadn't fractured Tony's cheekbone, since the swelling rapidly decreased in just a matter of hours and Tony's left eye could now open and close easily.

Reaching to touch it, Steve stopped him, "I wouldn't do that if I were you," he warned. Tony-angry that someone had dared injure him-became easily exasperated and grinded out, "Well, you're_ not _me," and snatched his hand back, Steve let him.

Reaching again, albeit more gently and cautiously than last time, Tony met his skin sooner than expected. Yep, it was swollen. He winced, feeling the tender area with his fingertips, "Jarvis, how did this happen?" Tony asked out loud, preferring not to address the man staring at him with...shame, or was that guilt. Both, he supposed.

"Mr. Rog-" The AI began to announce, when Tony ignored it and spoke over its voice. Jarvis knew not to say any more.

"Did you do this to me?" Tony's tone acrimonious and menacing, yet his dark brown eyes held a betrayal in them that stabbed at Steve's heart. "I-you, we weren't-" Steve sighed, trying to explain how things happened, but his subtle admission was enough for Tony.

"Get out," Tony whispered quietly, no emotion in his voice. Just unblinking eyes staring a mile away into nothingness. Steve blinked surprised to see Tony's reaction, he looked deeply wounded behind his facade, but he was wise enough to retreat quickly out the door before Tony's shock wore off.

Why did he feel like a traitorous bastard? He had only punched Stark...not fully intending on seriously hurting him. It's not like Stark hadn't done that to him...wait, he hadn't. Tony had never hurt him physically, even with how many times he taunted him, Tony never accepted the challenge. He always thought it was because he was a coward,a dog with no bark, or was it no bite? God damn the 21st century and their sayings. Though, this time Tony had snapped and did punch him back. It's then that Steve realized that he had crossed the line. Sure their personalities clashed and they insulted each other, but it never came to physical blows.

He felt sick, his face ashen with the realization as he saw his reflection against the glossy metal surface of the door.

* * *

**A/N: Well I couldn't think of a way for Steve to find out about the horrors that Tony had to face, so this is my solution. I know it makes Tony seem pathetic, but I do believe he likes to torture his mind constantly with his failures. So, I just translated that into a physical manifestation (the video) in order for Steve to be able to realize how depressed and guilty Tony really is. **


End file.
